Batman and the Pop Star
by DanS2015
Summary: Bruce Wayne starts dating the world's biggest pop star. Things seem great to begin with, but are they too different for the relationship to last?


Bruce scanned the crowd at the Wayne Enterprises Charity Christmas Gala and spotted all the familiar faces – lawyers, politicians, businessmen, celebrities. On one level he hated these things. These people drove him crazy with the extreme phoniness they projected at events like this. On the other hand, that phoniness gave him an opportunity to slip into and play a role he had perfected over the years, that of Bruce Wayne: Eccentric Billionaire. So the party wasn't a total loss.

A waiter walked by carrying a tray of wine glasses, and Bruce deftly grabbed one and took a sip as he slid between an oil tycoon and the high priced call girl he was escorting tonight. Bruce made it through unscathed, but he didn't count on the awkward, gawky woman to the right of the oil tycoon who slid in his way and bumped into him, causing wine to splash out of the slender glass and onto Bruce's tuxedo.

"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry!"

Bruce brushed at his tux, then looked up at the woman. She was tall and blond and vaguely familiar.

"I know you, don't I?" Bruce asked.

"I don't think we've met."

"You're that girl . . . on the TV."

"Ummm."

"Taylor Something. No, that's not it. Paige Something," Bruce said, still unable to pull the whole name from his memory.

"Tyler."

"No, that's not it."

"Paige Tyler."

Bruce grinned. "Oh. Right. I'm Bruce Wayne." He extended his hand.

"Bruce Wayne? Oh, Mr. Wayne, I'm so sorry about bumping into you."

"It's not a problem. And please, call me Bruce."

"Okay, _Bruce_," she said.

Bruce smiled. Paige was awkward, and he liked that. Awkward people had a hard time being phony, he thought.

But what was it he knew about her? That was something he couldn't quite put his finger on. He thought she was a pop star of some renown, but he wasn't entirely sure. She had to be _someone_ if she was here, though, so he knew that much at least.

"Are you having a good time?" Bruce asked.

"Well . . ."

"Me neither. Would you like to get out of here?"

Paige opened her mouth, but no sound came out.

"Come on," said Bruce. He reached out and took her hand. "Let's get out of here."

A gust of wind blew through Paige's hair and caused her to take a step back from the ledge out here on the terrace at the top of the Wayne Enterprises Towers building. She bumped into Bruce and giggled.

"The view from up here is incredible," she said.

"I know." Bruce looked into Paige's eyes.

"Mr. Wayne, are you trying to seduce me?"

From anyone else, Bruce would have found a line like that annoying. With Paige, it somehow seemed appropriate, as if she was too naïve to even know the source of the line.

"Seduction works only on those seeking to be seduced, Ms. Tyler."

Bruce leaned forward and kissed her.

Seconds later, Paige pushed back from Bruce and smiled. "Do you bring all the girls you meet out here?"

"Only the ones I like," said Bruce. He kissed her again, and this time she didn't back away as soon or as easily.

Alfred threw a magazine down on the table in front of Bruce. It appeared to be one of the tabloids that proliferated at the checkout lanes of grocery stores, and the headline read: Are Paige Tyler and Bruce Wayne an Item? Below the words was a picture of Paige Tyler dressed in white and wearing sunglasses juxtaposed with a photo of Bruce wearing a tuxedo.

"What's this?" Bruce asked.

"I thought you might be interested to see what the tabloids are saying about your latest dalliance."

Bruce picked up the magazine and flipped through it. "Where did they get this?"

"Perhaps you should ask your new girlfriend . . . or her publicist."

Bruce looked up at Alfred. "First of all, she's not my girlfriend. Second, there's no way. She wouldn't do that."

"Wouldn't she?"

"She's too . . . What's the word?"

"Conniving?"

"No. I was thinking more like _naïve_."

"Do not underestimate Ms. Tyler," Alfred said. "One does not _stumble_ into celebrity of the magnitude that Ms. Tyler possesses."

Bruce stood up. "What are you trying to say? You think she's just using me to further her career? That's crazy."

"She wouldn't be the first." Alfred looked at Bruce, saying as much with his eyes as he had with his words, and then he turned and walked away.

Things heated up between Bruce and Paige quickly. Luckily for Bruce, Gotham's need for Batman had not been that great over the past couple of months, giving him enough free time to devote to someone like Paige Tyler, one of the world's biggest pop stars. Also luckily for Bruce, Paige had some down time before her summer tour began, so there was nothing to prevent the two of them from getting to know each other better.

Bruce took Paige to a vacation home outside the city that had been in his family for years. It wasn't a place he went often – vacations simply weren't things he took – so he had to make sure the place was cleaned up and ready for their arrival.

Alfred drove Bruce and Paige to the home in the limousine he used to transport Bruce to and from Wayne Manor. As they approached, Paige couldn't help but gasp at the place's beauty. After passing through an elaborate gate they drove down a winding pathway adorned with topiary trees that had been shaped into the forms of various animals.

"It's amazing," said Paige.

Bruce smiled. "Wait until you see the inside."

The next two days were two of the most enjoyable days Bruce had spent in years. He and Paige spent every waking moment together exploring the vast mansion as well as the surrounding areas within the fenced-in exterior of the grounds. At one point Bruce and Paige explored the grounds on two of the horses they found in the stables.

Even though Bruce thought of himself as a loner, he found that he enjoyed Paige's constant presence by his side. Late during the second night of their stay, while drinking wine on the balcony of one of the second floor bedrooms, Bruce felt like telling Paige that he thought he was falling in love with her.

Just as he was about to open his mouth Bruce looked up and saw the Bat Signal hovering over the distant Gotham skyline. He had to go; had to get out of here. His expressions of love would have to be put on hold.

Paige sensed a change in Bruce's expression.

"What? Did I do something wrong?"

Bruce shook his head. "No. It's not that."

"Then what is it?"

"I have to go."

"Now? Where? Why?"

All good questions, thought Bruce.

"Business."

"You can't take care of it later?"

"I wish I could, but no."

Bruce wasn't sure Paige was buying it. He almost hoped she wasn't; he would respect her more if she didn't.

"You can be honest with me," said Paige. "If you don't like me, or if I did something that upset you or . . . whatever. Just tell me. I won't be offended."

"It's not you. There's just something I have to take care of. You can even stay here if you'd like. If not, I'll have someone drive you back to your place."

Paige stared at Bruce.

"We'll pick this up later. I promise."

"Fine."

Bruce rushed back inside and shifted into the Batman, mentally at least. It would be a while – maybe too long - before he could get back to the Bat Cave and into the suit, but in his head he was already there. He was Batman, and Paige Tyler would have to wait.

Bruce woke up to sharp pain in his ribs. He hadn't looked yet, but he knew there would be a nasty bruise awaiting his inspection. He rolled over and grabbed his phone off the nightstand beside the bed. Not surprisingly, there was a series of texts from Paige awaiting him.

Was Paige already too attached to him? Was she too clingy? Too needy? Or was this how normal people behaved? Were you supposed to be this attached in a relationship? Bruce couldn't remember any more. It had been so long since he had even attempted something that resembled a real relationship.

On the other hand, was he too attached to her already? Hadn't he been ready and willing to express his love to her just last night? Or had that simply been a byproduct of too much wine? Bruce wanted to lean in that direction.

Bruce contemplated his response to Paige's text messages. He needed to respond, but he wanted his response to be as brief as possible. He wasn't a big texter, and he didn't want to establish an unwanted precedent for their relationship.

Bruce typed the following message: Things went longer than I expected last night. All is well. Busy day ahead. Will talk to you later.

"That should take care of things for a while," Bruce said to himself.

"Take care of what, sir?"

Bruce almost jumped out of bed. He looked up and saw Alfred standing in the doorway.

"Nothing," said Bruce. "Just talking to myself."

"And texting, apparently."

"Right. I'll try not to make a habit of it."

"It might be the most _normal_ thing I've seen you do in quite some time."

"Then I'll definitely make sure I don't make a habit of it," said Bruce. "Now if you'll give me a few moments to myself I'll get up and get dressed."

"Very well, sir, but you might be interested to hear that I had a rather lengthy chat on the phone this morning with Ms. Tyler."

Bruce sighed. "Why am I not surprised?"

Bruce escorted Paige to a concert later that week at a trendy bar in an artsy neighborhood in Gotham. Paige had seemed incredibly excited to see the band playing that night – a band whose name currently escaped Bruce's recall – but once they got there Bruce felt extremely out of place. He felt _old_. Scanning the crowd, he concluded he had to be the oldest person in the venue by at least fifteen years.

"Relax," said Paige. "This will be fun."

Bruce smiled. "Who said I'm not relaxed? I'm perfectly relaxed. And comfortable. Nice disguise, by the way. I'm sure that hat will render you unrecognizable to all your fans."

Paige leaned in and gave Bruce a quick kiss on the cheek. "I come here all the time. They know me. It's not a problem."

"I need a drink," said Bruce. "I'll be right back."

Bruce left and returned to Paige's side a few seconds later empty handed.

"I thought you said you were going to get a drink," said Paige.

"I did. Already had it."

"You might want to pace yourself."

Bruce smiled and kissed Paige on her cheek. He wanted to take her away from this place, maybe to one of the restaurants they had walked past on the way to the venue. There were at least a couple of places with outdoor patios nearby that seemed more Bruce's style.

The lights in the bar dimmed and Bruce turned around to see a band of scruffy looking twenty-somethings take the stage. Too late to suggest an alternative plan. The gigantic smile on Paige's face told him that even suggesting they leave would be a bad idea.

"You're going to love these guys," said Paige. "They're amazing."

"I'm sure," Bruce said, mostly trying to convince himself.

The band started then, and they were a wall of noise to Bruce – jangling guitars, throbbing bass, and drums that sounded like a marching band on amphetamines. The lead singer was a skinny young guy – probably Paige's age – wearing blue jeans that were too tight and he had hair that hung down to one side of his face and covered one of his eyes. Was he the reason Paige liked this band so much? Did they know each other? Bruce studied the singer and made a mental list of the young man's flaws, just in case Paige started gushing over him later.

Paige looked over at Bruce, beaming. "Aren't they great?" she asked, but Bruce only knew this from reading her lips; it was too loud to hear her even though they were standing right next to each other.

Bruce decided he had had enough and needed some fresh air five songs into the set.

"I'll be right back," Bruce shouted into Paige's ear.

Paige frowned. "Where are you going?"

"I just need to go outside for a minute. I've got to check in with Alfred."

"Okay. Hurry back."

"Will do."

Bruce slipped through the crowd and made it outside the bar. He strolled a few steps away from the door and reached into his pocket to retrieve his phone. He really did want to check in with Alfred and make sure everything was okay – or come up with an excuse to leave the show early.

Before he pulled his phone out of his pocket, however, Bruce noticed something in the sky. _The bat signal_.

There was his excuse.

"Paige is going to love this," Bruce mumbled to himself. He decided to give Alfred a quick call before going back inside to break the news to Paige that he needed to leave. That would give him enough time to come up with a better excuse than _I saw the bat signal, and oh by the way, I'm Batman_.

"I get this feeling you're hiding something from me," said Paige.

"Like what?"

"I don't know. A part of you, that's all."

Bruce took a step back. This wasn't the first time he'd heard someone say that to him. "I think you're looking for something that isn't there," he said. "I'm not a character in one of your songs."

Paige flashed Bruce the look of feigned shock she displayed every time she won an award on some televised award show. "What's that supposed to mean?" she asked.

Bruce shook his head. "Nothing."

Paige moved closer and put her hands around Bruce's shoulders. "Why won't you let me in? What are you afraid of?"

Bruce stood there, silent, feeling her warm breath brushing against his face. This was one of those pivotal fork-in-the-road moments, he thought. Which path should he take? The one where he let Paige Tyler inside the dark, hidden recesses of his life? Or the one where he parted ways with her, the way he had with so many women before?

"I suppose it wouldn't be so _horrible_ to be one of the characters in your songs," Bruce said quietly, almost whispering.

"No, it wouldn't."

Somewhere in the back of his mind Bruce had the feeling he would one day be one of those characters . . . once they had broken up.

And they would break up one day. That much was inevitable. Bruce couldn't envision a day when he finally let someone new into his life permanently. It was too dangerous; for him and for her.

Tonight, however, he was willing to let Paige inside his world, at least the part he felt comfortable sharing. Bruce pulled Paige close and kissed her.

"I love you," Paige said when their lips finally parted.

Bruce smiled and kissed her again but said nothing in return.

Paige sat cross-legged on the large couch in one of Wayne Manor's many cavernous and oftentimes-forgotten rooms. She was reading a magazine article about herself, something Alfred had provided earlier before Bruce had made his way down here, but the story wasn't holding her attention. Paige casually tossed the magazine down towards Bruce's end of the couch.

"Where is this relationship going?"

"What do you mean?" asked Bruce.

"Where are we going? Are we going to get married? Have kids? What?"

Bruce didn't know what to say. He hadn't given any of these things any thought. He opened his mouth but no words came out. One minute he had been engrossed by a local news story about a Gotham crime syndicate he frequently encountered during his nocturnal life, and the next he was fielding existential questions from his girlfriend.

"You have a reputation too, you know?"

"What kind of reputation?" asked Bruce.

"People talk."

"What people?"

Paige hopped off the couch and paced towards the wall-mounted television Bruce's eyes were fixed on. "Just, you know, _people_."

Bruce didn't know, and the fact that Paige was being so vague started to make him a little paranoid.

"Look, I know none of it's true. Probably."

"Just spit it out already."

"Well, you can be a little aloof, some people say, and they like to speculate about why. One person I know thinks you might be gay, but I know that isn't true."

Bruce wondered who thought this about him, but he quickly decided he didn't want to know.

"I've heard other people say they think you might be a serial killer," said Paige. "I know that's not true either."

"I'm not a serial killer."

"I know. But what I don't know is where this relationship is going. I really like you, Bruce, and I want to know that you like me too."

"Of course I like you, Paige."

Paige walked back to the couch, sat down, and put her arms around Bruce. She moved close enough to feel his breath against her face. "I want you to be as serious about me as I am about you."

"Let's just enjoy the moment," said Bruce. "That's all any of us have anyway."

"The moment?"

"Yes, the moment." Bruce leaned in and kissed Paige, hoping to end the conversation. His plan worked, but he had no way of knowing if Paige was satisfied by his answer.

There were times when Bruce thought he had nothing of any real significance in common with Paige Tyler. Most of the time this didn't bother him because they had so much fun when they were together. Unfortunately, since Paige was arguably the biggest pop star on the planet, Bruce still got news about Paige and her exploits when they weren't together. Occasionally the stories would make him question their relationship, and today was one of those days. While sitting down to eat breakfast he happened to overhear a tabloid news report about Paige and a recent trip she had made to a ritzy Gotham night club.

"Alfred, do we really need to be watching this?" Bruce asked from his seat at a small kitchen table.

"I thought you might find it interesting. This particular program often reports on Miss Tyler's comings and goings."

"I may be dating her, Alfred, but I don't need to know everything about her. She certainly doesn't need to know everything about me."

Bruce realized immediately that what he said didn't actually make sense, not if you were serious about your relationship.

"Are you saying that her nocturnal activities are as off limits as your nocturnal activities?" Alfred asked. "So it wouldn't bother you if she was living a secret life you knew nothing about?"

"That's not what I'm saying," said Bruce. "It's different. I mean, well, I don't know what I mean. I didn't think you liked Paige anyway. Wouldn't total honesty bring the two of us closer together?"

"What you do is your business, sir."

"You're just concerned and want me to make sure I knew that my girlfriend may or may not have been making out with her supermodel girl friends at a dance club last night? Is that it?"

"I had no idea that's what would be on today's news."

"Don't worry. Paige is a big girl, and I'm a big boy. What she does on her own time is her own business."

Bruce found himself dozing off during the monthly Wayne Enterprises board meeting. He'd stayed up late with Paige the night before, as he'd been doing quite a bit lately – at least on the nights she wasn't out partying with her young, famous friends.

"Mister Wayne, would you care to offer your input into the matter?" asked a particularly distasteful member of the board, a bald man whose name Bruce could never seem to remember.

Bruce felt his head jerk upright. "Huh? Umm, no I would not."

"That's interesting, Mr. Wayne. This project was begun at your request. It seems like you would have _something_ to add to the discussion."

Bruce nodded. "It does seem that way, doesn't it?"

An awkward silence descended over the room. Everyone expected Bruce to add something to his previous statement, but he didn't.

Bruce smiled and stood up. "Well then, unless there are any questions I think that should cover things for this month."

Instead of waiting for questions, Bruce turned around and confidently walked out of the meeting room. He wasn't sure how long the meeting had been going on or if everything that needed to be covered had been covered, but he didn't see any other good way of covering up his nap. Besides, everyone in the room already thought he was a weirdo; why disappoint them?

Alfred walked into the Bat Cave, where Bruce, dressed in his bat suit but without the cowl, was staring at a wall of monitors. Alfred had a tray of food in his hand, which he placed on the desk in front of Bruce.

"Master Wayne, perhaps you might consider spending a little less time with Ms. Tyler."

The suggestion seemed to come from out of nowhere, but Alfred was right, of course, and Bruce knew it. Not because Bruce needed to ignore his own needs to focus more on the needs of Gotham City, which present situation excepted he had been mostly ignoring during his courtship with the pop star, but because Paige Tyler was absolutely crazy, something that became evident every time she popped up in a tabloid story. Bruce, like all heroes, needed a life of his own outside of the life he lived serving Gotham, but Paige Tyler didn't have to be a part of that life.

"I was thinking that things would maybe die down on their own," Bruce said. "You know how girls her age are."

Alfred raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Do I? Or better yet, _do you_?"

Bruce wasn't sure he did, but he kept this to himself.

Bruce was exhausted, but the Batman wasn't allowed to be exhausted. There were no vacation days when you assumed the mantle of being a superhero. It seemed like the more things heated up with Paige the more frequently the commissioner flashed the bat signal in the sky. The universe, it seemed, was conspiring against Bruce and Paige.

Bruce stumbled into an alley, hoping to catch his breath after taking a pretty bad pummeling by some bank robbers moments earlier. Maybe he had been spending too much time with Paige, Bruce thought. Maybe this wasn't a conspiracy but a sign; a sign that it was time to end this fling and get on with his real life; a sign that Alfred was right.

Sirens blared in the background. The cops were closing in. Fortunately, despite taking a beating, Bruce had prevailed and left the bank robbers tied up inside the bank around the corner. Disaster had been averted, barely.

Bruce decided then, hunched over and panting heavily in a dark alley, he had to break things off with Paige. It didn't matter if he was ready yet or not. The two of them had an expiration date, whether he broke things off now or waited. He might as well do it now before he got himself killed while roaming the city as a masked avenger.

Besides, Paige was going to dump him eventually anyway, right? Wasn't that how this worked? Sure, she was infatuated with the successful, older businessman now, but there would come a time when she wanted someone she could really talk to. Someone who got her music. Someone who wanted to go to flashy nightclubs or dive bars and listen to music being played by twentysomethings.

Bruce stood up and caught his breath. He looked back and saw flashing red and blue lights back in the direction he had come from. The situation was under control; now he could disappear into the night.

Standing outside Paige's favorite coffee shop, Bruce looked Paige in the eyes and took a deep breath. "I don't think this is working out," he said.

"What?" Paige asked, her mouth gaping wide open. She looked the way she did at award shows when she won something – surprised but with a certain practiced insincerity.

Bruce wondered if she was, in fact, being insincere. Surely she had seen this coming. Surely she would have broken things off with him if he hadn't broken things off with her. She couldn't be as hurt as she seemed to be.

"It's not you," said Bruce. "It's me."

_Talk about insincerity_. Even Bruce had to admit the words sounded hollow as soon as they left his lips.

"I don't understand."

Bruce wondered if he'd made a mistake. Maybe he should have let her break up with him first. Now, though, he had the feeling that he'd made a mistake. Paige was the kind of woman who might – no, _would_ – seek some sort of revenge, probably through song. Wasn't that what she'd done with all of her previous boyfriends?

"You've broken up before, right?" Bruce asked.

A single tear streaked down Paige's face.

"Don't be condescending, Bruce."

"I wasn't trying to be."

Paige stormed away down the street, signaling an end to the argument. At least that's how Bruce saw it. In reality, Paige wanted Bruce to follow after her, to beg her to come back, but Bruce saw this as an easy out to the drawn out argument he'd been expecting.

Bruce wondered if he had made a mistake. On the one hand, he couldn't maintain the life he had so carefully cultivated if Paige became a permanent addition to his world. He couldn't handle Wayne Enterprises, be Batman, and be completely engaged in a relationship with the world's biggest pop star. On the other hand, would it be so bad if he had to give something up? That something, of course, would be his life as the Batman. Maybe he wasn't destined to carry that burden forever. Surely someone else could pick up where he left off. He could devote himself to Paige and Wayne Enterprises and leave Batman behind forever. Gotham would find a new hero, eventually.

What would his parents have wanted? Bruce didn't know. He knew so very little about the two people who had brought him into this world. He couldn't ask their opinion, either. He could ask Alfred, but he already knew what Alfred thought about Paige.

Bruce had been alone for so long, and there were so few people in this world he could truly relate to. It was true that Paige came from an entirely different generation than him, but there were things the two of them had in common. The burden of expectations, for one. But was that enough?

Alfred walked into the room. "Master Wayne, I think you might want to see this."

"What is it?"

"It appears that Miss Tyler has written a song about you and released a video to go along with it."

Alfred picked up the remote control off of the coffee table and clicked on the wall-mounted television set. Paige appeared on screen, prancing around, alternately appearing hurt and then vengeful, singing about some big shot billionaire with a dark secret. A stand-in for Bruce appeared in a closet.

"If that's the worst she's got, I'm okay with that," said Bruce. "It's not like anyone who knows me is going to believe it anyway."

But that wasn't the worst she had. Not by a long shot. A flurry of bats emerged from the closet, darting out into the light before the big shot billionaire stepped out.

"That's not cool," said Bruce.

"A phrase you picked up from Miss Tyler?" Alfred asked, his right eyebrow raised.

"Who do I have to pay to get this thing off the air?"

"Even if you could arrange that, sir, I'm afraid you won't be able to shut down Youtube. I hear that's what the kids are into these days."

Bruce exited through a side door of Wayne Enterprises Towers, but the vultures were already there waiting for him.

"Mr. Wayne, would you like to take a few minutes to talk about your relationship with Paige Tyler?"

Would he? Of course, he would. Off the record, not here with all these cameras and microphones surrounding him.

"What was it about her that caused you to fall for her?"

That was a good question. Was it the way she faked sincerity? The way she pretended to be a human being so well that you actually found yourself believing she was one? Or was it because she was as awkward and fragile emotionally as he was?

"Why did you break Paige Tyler's heart?"

"Is there any chance the two of you will get back together?"

Bruce stopped, and this caused the throng gathered around him to stop as well.

"All will be answered in my next single," Bruce said.

No one realized he was joking.

"That's how this works, right?" Bruce asked. "I air my dirty laundry in song?"

"We didn't know that you were an artist, Mr. Wayne. Are you working on an album?"

"Are you serious?" Bruce asked. He spotted his limo across the street in an alley, and he made his way over there as quickly as he could. Bruce hopped in and slammed the door shut as a flurry of questions were hurled in his direction.

"Let's get out of here, Alfred."

"Yes, sir."

Bruce sat alone in the Batcave watching various monitors. He didn't know what to do. Supervillains were easy. You punched them in the face; you waited for them to make a mistake; you blew up their secret hideout. Most women were easy too. You broke up with them, they threw their shoes at you, they cussed you out, and eventually they got over it. Maybe they went to the tabloids and told a lie about your private parts, but mostly it all came to nothing. Worst case scenario you paid for their silence.

But what did you do with the biggest pop star in the world? You couldn't fight her and you couldn't pay her off. Did you attack her in the press? Bruce didn't think that was his style. He wasn't a politician. He was a reclusive, weirdo millionaire. Reclusive, weirdo millionaires tended to keep to themselves.

Alfred walked in holding a bowl of soup. "Your lunch, sir."

"Thank you, Alfred. You can put it on the table over there."

"Very well, sir."

Alfred turned to go, but Bruce spun around in his chair and stopped him. "What do you think I should do, Alfred?"

"About?"

"Paige."

"I am by no means an expert on the human heart, but I believe this will all blow over eventually. In fact, it may even be good for your reputation. You look more _human_."

"You really think so?"

"Miss Tyler has a long line of exes who have been in the exact same situation as you find yourself now. They appear to have come through the ordeal without any lasting damage to their reputations."

Bruce leaned back. So their reputations survived Paige Tyler; that was fantastic news. But what about their hearts?

"Thank you, Alfred."

Alfred nodded. "If you need me, sir, you know where to find me."

Bruce spun back around and stared at the wall of displays in front of him. Once Alfred was gone he used a remote control to connect one of the screens to Youtube. He pulled up Paige's scathing video response to Bruce. Maybe he deserved her scorn, more so than any of the other exes had. Maybe, emotionally, he was a coward.

Maybe next time things would work out . . . for him and for her.

Bruce closed his eyes and let Paige's words fill his head.


End file.
